HTLJ: A Fairy Tale
by Arianna18
Summary: Iolaus is being held captive by the fairies and only his bond with Hercules might free him.


"Gods, I really hate those things!" Iolaus mumbled with profound distaste, as he clammered out of the 'bolt hole' he'd dove into just minutes before. "And, I'm not really crazy about being the bait to lure them in!" he groused further to Hercules as he looked with disgust at the dead manticores on the other side of the sturdy barrier which had shielded him from their deadly attack.

"Well, the good news is, I think that's the last of them," Hercules said mildly, laying a hand on Iolaus' shoulder as he scanned the area around. Satisfied that they had, indeed, finished off the predators, he looked down at his partner with a grin. "You didn't have to volunteer, you know."

Iolaus just shrugged. "Like you could run fast enough to get away from them before they turned you into a pin cushion with those poisoned spikes of their," he scorned, then continued more reasonably, "Besides, we needed your strength on the bow and lances, to drive the weapons past that armourlike hide." Iolaus scowled at the six beasts that littered the field. He didn't know what he was irritated about. It had been a decent plan...to have him act as the prey to attract their attention and lure them into range for Hercules to take them out. And, it had worked.

Maybe it was the sharp projectiles that had only just missed him by a breath. If he hadn't slipped at that moment, causing him to roll and then scramble back to his feet to race toward safety, the things would have made an interesting fashion statement sticking out of the back of his vest...and he'd be already dead.

Or, maybe it was the fact that they'd been going flat out for what seemed like forever. Monsters, warlords, bandits in the hills, mercenaries, a minor skirmish between two kings that almost led to a war...and more monsters. And these last misbegotten creatures from a nightmare had come a little too close. He could almost feel Thanatos breathing down his neck.

Iolaus took a quick glance over his shoulder, just to make sure Hades' main man wasn't lurking somewhere near by, then grimaced again, disgusted with himself. Rubbing the back of his neck, he reflected he was getting as jumpy as a deer, darting at shadows, and as paranoid as a rich man who believes the world is out to rob him. Looking up at his buddy, he sighed at the look of puzzled concern in the demigod's eyes, one brow raising in query as his fingers gripped Iolaus' shoulder a little more firmly. The hunter didn't need to hear the words to understand the question.

"I'm tired, Herc," he said, then looked away. He hated admitting that. It wasn't so many years ago that he'd never felt tired, never felt stiff joints or aching muscles in the morning. But, it was more than fifteen years since they'd left the Academy...closer to twenty, if he was honest. He wasn't a hyperactive kid anymore. And, he was tired. He looked back up at his partner, his expression a mix of envy and weary resignation, with just a trace of amusement at his own expense. Gods, Herc looked like he'd stopped aging ten years ago.

Hercules read the thoughts and emotions chasing one another across his best friend's expressive face, and nodded as he looked off toward the horizon. He'd thought Iolaus seemed more weary than usual...and he hadn't missed that stumble. It turned out to have been very timely, but it had been close. Iolaus almost hadn't made it back to the dugout in time. Herc's blood had chilled as he'd watched his buddy flirting with death one more time. There'd been too many close calls lately...they needed to regroup, get some rest.

Giving Iolaus' shoulder an understanding pat, he answered, "Well, I'm not surprised. It's been a while since we had a break. I'm tired, too." Looking back down at Iolaus, Hercules offered tentatively, "We could take a holiday."

"A holiday?" Iolaus repeated, looking skeptical. Their 'holidays' always seemed to end up more adventurous than they'd planned. But, the idea of a few days of quiet, and maybe a little fishing, was very appealing. "What did you have in mind?"

Hercules looked back toward the northeastern horizon. "Well, we've never spent much time up in this area, so close to Macedonia. We could take a few days just to explore those hills over there, away from people. You know...no monsters, no warlords...just maybe a stream with a few fish?"

Iolaus could feel his muscles relax just at the thought of it. A weary grin stole across his face, as he said softly, "Sounds good."

Herc nodded decisively, giving him a heartier slap on the shoulder. "Right...well, then, let's go," he said with a smile of his own, waving a hand toward the forested hills. "We should be able to reach them before dusk."

* * *

They'd left the flat grassy plain behind them an hour before. Striding sturdily over the rising, slightly rolling land, they were headed toward the forest's edge, another mile away. They could see a stream winding it's way out of the trees, and down the sloping countryside, toward a village in the distance. It was peaceful, a light breeze carrying the scent of the various wildflowers that grew in the grass, quiet as Helios settled behind the hills to the west. Heading instinctively toward the stream, unconsciously thinking 'fish', they soon found themselves under the shelter of the ancient trees, and only minutes later they found a small clearing not far from the water's edge.

Iolaus pulled a hook and some fishing line from his pack, then dumped it on the ground on the edge of the clearing as he headed toward the stream, breaking a suitable pole from the low hanging branch of a tree as he passed beneath. Hercules gathered deadfall for the fire, got it started within the circle of stones he'd created, then pulled blankets from Iolaus' pack, shaking them out and laying them on either side of the cheerful blaze. Satisfied, he ambled after Iolaus, whom he could hear whistling not far away.

"Any luck?" Hercules asked, as he plopped down on the grassy bank beside his buddy.

"Yep," grinned Iolaus, cocking his head at the fish that was rolled in leaves beside him. "These guys are just dying to get caught...I hardly need a hook!"

Chuckling quietly, Hercules stretched out, leaning back on his elbows as he drank in the peaceful solitude of the forest around them. He could tell that Iolaus was already more relaxed than he'd been in a while. Taking a deep, contented breath, he smiled peacefully.

A flicker in the corner of his eye caused him to turn his head quickly to see what had attracted his attention. It had been irridescent, glimmering in the late afternoon light, flitting quickly and gone. 'Hummingbird?' he thought, unconcerned.

"There seem to be quite a few of them around," Iolaus murmured quietly, having noticed Herc's quick, almost startled searching of the area near by. 'He's jumpy, too,' Iolaus thought, a little pleased that he hadn't been the only one to need a break.

"Hmmm?" asked Hercules, his eyes coming back to his partner.

"Hummingbirds," Iolaus replied with a grin. "They move too quickly to really get a good look at them, but I've noticed quite a few buzzing about."

Herc nodded, and laid back, his arms crossed under his head, relaxed, drifting into a light sleep.

Waking sometime later, he noticed the sun was well down, and the light of their fire was flickering brightly through the trees. Frowning as he sat up, he wondered why Iolaus hadn't awakened him earlier. He looked toward where his buddy had been sitting, a puzzled look creeping over his face as he noticed the fishing pole lying on the ground, and the fish still wrapped in leaves, just a couple of feet away.

"Iolaus?" he called out softly, looking around, figuring Iolaus had just had a sudden urge to relieve himself. That second fish was taking a while to catch, or so it seemed.

"Iolaus?" he called out again when there was no answer, a little more loudly this time. But, there were only the night sounds of a forest...a hunting owl, the skitter of little creatures in the brush who had come to the stream to drink...the breeze rustling through the leaves of the trees above him.

Suddenly alert, Hercules pushed himself up to his feet, a familiar sinking feeling in his stomach. Hoping that maybe Iolaus had wanted something in his pack, Herc headed back to their improvised camp. Iolaus' pack was lying where Herc had left it after taking out the blankets, not far from the fire. "IOLAUS!" Hercules shouted in earnest, his eyes darting around the shadows as he turned in a circle. "Come on, buddy, this isn't funny," he muttered, as he listened for any response.

Nothing.

Loping back to the stream, Hercules called again, "IOLAUS! Answer me!"

Kneeling near where they'd been resting on the bank, Herc squinted, trying to make out any sign in the dim, uncertain light. Impatient, he gathered up some twigs and sparked a small torch to give him more light. He could see where they'd been sitting...easy. The fishing pole and the fish were still there. His eyes quartering the area, he spotted the sign Iolaus left when he'd stood and ambled a few steps to the right, where he had stopped.

And, that was it. There were no further marks from his boots in the damp soil...no prints of any kind. Iolaus had just...disappeared. Frantic, Hercules yelled out again, and then again. But the only response was the wind in the trees.

"IOLAUS!!!!"

* * *

Hercules raced into the small village, quickly taking stock of the buildings along the single lane, deciding the one near the end, where light was streaming from the windows, along with the sound of low laughter, was the local tavern. His jaw tight, he jogged toward it.

Back by the stream, it had taken him several minutes to calm down enough to realize he was wasting his time shouting out Iolaus' name. He'd been angry at first, thinking Iolaus was playing some kind of joke on him. But, as the minutes dragged by, and night settled in, Herc's irritation had given way to anxiety and then alarm. Whatever had happened, he knew he couldn't find Iolaus in the dark. Forcing back the fear that was rising in his chest, he'd gone back to the camp and rolled the blankets back into Iolaus' pack. Standing as he slung it over his shoulder, he kicked out the fire, and then headed back out of the woods toward the village they'd noticed earlier.

Having more questions than answers, unwilling to just sit there worrying in the dark, Hercules had decided to head to the village to find out if there were bandits known to be hiding out in the forest, or other dangers that he could investigate. As he ran across the darkened fields he tried to make sense of it. If there had been some kind of danger, Iolaus would have called out, warned him. There'd been no sign of a scuffle, and Iolaus never let himself be taken quietly. They'd been alone, in a peaceful wood...what kind of danger could have been lurking there that neither of them had noticed or sensed?

As he pushed open the door and entered the smoky interior of the tavern, Hercules was determined to get some answers. He might not know where Iolaus was, or what had happened to him...but he sure as Tarturus was going to find his buddy. Nothing, and no one, would keep him from knowing what had happened to his partner, or stop him from getting him back.

The friendly chatter in the tavern settled into silence as the villagers turned to look at the imposing stranger who had just burst in from the night, looking like he had the hounds of Hades on his tail. They could sense an anger that was barely held in check, noted the sweat and grime of hard travel on the man's skin, and the flash of anxiety in the piercing blue eyes that darted around the room, as if searching for something...or someone. Not seeing what he'd hoped to find, the man's shoulders slumped as he turned toward the tavern keeper.

Herc was conscious of them staring at him, and was aware he'd created a minor sensation crashing in the way he had, slamming the door open more forcibly than he'd intended. And, he'd known it was a crazy hope, that he might find Iolaus laughing and joking over a mug of ale with the locals. But, that would have made more sense than his partner just disappearing into thin air.

"Can I help you?" the tavern keeper asked. Herc looked at the middleaged, portly man, who seemed friendly enough if a little intimated by his imposing presence.

Forcing himself to relax, Herc nodded. "I hope so," he replied. "I know this is going to sound a little crazy, but a friend and I were fishing in the forest not far from here, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, he was...gone."

Herc paused at the sharp intake of breath from someone behind him, and turned to see who had been startled by his story. The tavern keeper's eyes had widened a bit as he'd spoken, and now he found them all staring at him like he was some kind of spectre. "What?" he asked, hope mingled with apprehension in his eyes. "I knew you'd have some idea if there was anyone causing trouble around here...bandits...or a monster, maybe? I know my friend wouldn't just wander off."

The villagers shuffled a bit, looking at one another, and finally one old codger rubbed a hand over his mouth as he shook his head sorrowfully. They all had a good idea of what had happened to this man's friend, and someone was going to have to tell him.

Easing into it, the old man asked, "Just to be clear, young feller, you and yer friend was fishing about a mile away on the little stream what bubbles out of the wood, and flows past the village here?"

"That's right," Hercules confirmed, moving toward the villager, putting his hands on the back of a chair as he waited for more information. "Why? Is there something special about that stretch of forest?"

The old man sighed as he looked away. This had been happening far too often lately. Reluctantly, he turned his tired eyes back to Hercules. "I'm sorry to have to tell ya, but yer friend's been taken...stolen like...and ya're not likely to see him agin."

Hercules had stiffened, rising to his full height as his eyes darted around the room, noting that they all looked away from him, shaking their heads unhappily, but resigned that there was nothing to be done. "Taken by whom?" Hercules asked, his voice low as he held tightly to his control. When the man didn't answer immediately, Herc's eyes flashed, as he said more loudly, "Look, I'm going to find him...just tell me who took him and where to start looking!"

"Fairies," the old man muttered. "Damned fairies."

"What?" Hercules challenged, not sure he'd heard right. "Fairies?"

"Aye," the old man allowed, as he waved at the tavern keeper to bring an ale for the stranger. This was going to take a bit of explanation, and he could see the man was distraught. "Sit down, young man, and I'll tell ya 'bout the fairies."

Herc took another look around the room, thinking they were mocking him, but all the faces regarded him seriously, kindly even. Not understanding, but knowing he needed as much information as they could give him, he nodded mutely and dropped into the chair, leaning forward toward the old man, his elbows on the table. When the tavern keeper placed the mug of ale in front of him, he nodded again, mumbling, "Thanks," to be courteous. But, he didn't want the damned ale...he wanted to know what had happened to Iolaus. Frowning, he fixed eyes darkened with concern on the old man, and urged him on, "What fairies?"

"They moved into the woods yonder a few years back, having been driven south from their ancient ground by the trolls. There's quite a community of them, hundreds, and lovely they are, like little hummingbirds." The old man paused when he saw Hercules start in surprise. "Ah...ya've seen them then. And not known what ya were seeing. Well, they were peacable enough, not causing any problems, and we pretty much left one another alone...until about six months ago, now."

The old man paused to sip his ale, his throat dry from so much talking. He was also conscious that all in the tavern were listening to him tell the tale, and much as he sorrowed for this stranger's loss, he was enjoying the attention. Prodding him, Hercules demanded, "What happened six months ago?"

Wiping his sleeve across his mouth, the old man continued, "Well, ya see, fellers started disappearin', like, vanished into the thin air, they did. Always strong men, fighters if you know what I mean. One old woman of the village, who'd come from up near where the fairies had used to live, well, she started thinking on what was happening. Ya see, fairies had been known to make off with folks from time to time, for their own purposes. But, in the old days, they'd always given the loved ones of the folks they stole a chance to get them back. But, not this time...."

When the old man's voice drifted off, Hercules again pushed for more information. As incredible as this tale sounded, he could accept the possibility that fairies could exist. He'd seen stranger things in his life. "Why not? Why won't they give the people back?" he asked, frowning.

Shrugging, the old codger sighed. "'Tis not really clear. The old woman I mentioned, well, she set off one day to confront the fairies, to find out what was going on. They weren't too clear, just said somethin' 'bout trouble comin' and they t'wouldn't be driven off no more. Said they needed warriors. So, they took 'em."

Looking up at Hercules, the old man finished his story, "So, ya see, lad...yer friend is gone, an' ya'll likely never see him agin."

Herc shook his head at that, "Don't bet on it. I'll get Iolaus back...and the others, too, if I can. Where do I find these fairies?"

"Iolaus, is that his name, then?" asked the old man. When Herc just nodded, he carried on, "Well, I wish ya luck, I really do. But... 'tis more likely they'll just take ya, too. They've magic the like of which we've never seen. But...I can see ya're determined, so I'll tell ya. Follow that same stream back further into the wood, oh about a mile or so. Ya'll come to a clearing, full of flowers and the wind'll sound like it's singing. When ya hear that, well, ya call out for the Queen, Tallerra, and if she feels like it, she'll answer ya. After that," the old man shrugged, "well, who knows."

Hercules nodded, grateful for the information, glad to know where he could start looking. He took a healthy swallow of the ale, then stood, pulling a few coins from his pouch and laying them on the table. "Thank you," he said, turning toward the door.

Nodding in acknowledgement, the old man called to him just before he set out back into the night, "What's ya're name, lad?"

"Hercules," the demigod answered, and then was gone, leaving a tavern full of startled villagers behind him.

* * *

Iolaus was trying to figure out what had happened. The last thing he could remember was being with Herc at that stream and seeing a whole cluster of those hummingbirds flitting about not far to their right. Curious, he'd gotten up to see if he could get a closer look at them...there was something odd...and then he'd stopped in his tracks.

They weren't hummingbirds.

They were teeny, tiny people in irridescent, flowing garments, flitting on gossamer wings. His mouth had dropped open in consternation as he gazed at them, fascinated, feeling no alarm. They looked harmless, too delicate and lovely to be dangerous...and the one flying toward him was smiling...gods, she was lovely, with long flowing ebony tresses, pale alabaster skin and long lashes over turquoise eyes.

He had just turned his head a little, to call behind him to Hercules to wake up and see these dainty little beings, not yet really ready to acknowledge that they were fairies... 'cause, well, fairies didn't really exist... when he found himself inside a sparkling cloud of silver dust that swirled around him, dimming his vision of the world beyond its borders.

And, then, he'd woken up here...wherever 'here' was. Looking around, he tried to figure out where the light was coming from. There was a phosphorescent glow illuminating a large clearing surrounded by a deep, thick forest. Moss hung from the trees, like gauzy banners, and the meadow grasses were filled with flowers. It was night beyond the glow, and he could hear the gurgling of the stream, and a sound like music riffling through the leaves above him.

Nor was he alone. There were perhaps twenty other guys, ranging in age from their late teens to their middle thirties sprawled in sleep around him. And, there were more fairies than he could count dipping and flitting quietly about the clearing, perching on blades of grass, sheltering under leafy bushes, dozing amongst the flowers. 'Teach me to think small things aren't dangerous,' he chided himself. 'If anyone should know better, it's me.'

But, they hadn't tied him up, nor had they hurt him. The guys snoring around him seemed fit and peaceful. He'd figured out the little things were fairies, but was surprised to see them this far south. He'd always heard they existed somewhere far, far to the north, in a land of mist and mystery...if they existed at all. Well, if they weren't going to tie him down, he couldn't see any reason to hang around.

A scowl of confusion on his face, he rose to his feet, and headed toward the stream, to see if the area looked at all familiar. Maybe Herc wasn't all that far away.

He hadn't gone far when one of the fairies, the same blackhaired beauty he'd seen at the stream, flitted over to hover directly in front of his face, effectively stopping him in his tracks. "You may not leave," she said, her voice the sound of gentle chimes, light as the air.

Iolaus' brows rose under his tumbling bangs, as he stood with his hands on his hips. "I don't see how you can make me stay," he replied, not aggressively, just a quiet observation.

"You've been enchanted, and you are now bound to us, until we release you," she explained patiently.

Iolaus rubbed his ear, thinking this all sounded a little ridiculous. He didn't feel any different. "Enchanted?" he echoed, a look of profound skepticism on his face.

She nodded solemnly. "Yes, though you see the world, you cannot be seen. You're present but not tangible, not visible...and you can only travel through these woods so far as we will let you go...and then you will be drawn back."

"Uh huh," Iolaus grunted, looking around. "Are those guys 'enchanted', too?" he asked, tilting his head back toward the men sleeping behind him.

"They are," she confirmed.

Shaking his head, he stepped around her, taking care not to step on any fairies lounging on the ground, as he explained, "Look, my friend is going to be worried about me...so, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll just be on my way."

She flitted back in front of him, causing him to roll his eyes. "Look, I don't want to hurt you," he said, with a sigh. "You can't keep me here."

She ignored his mild threat. "We hope your friend will come. He knows now that you are missing, and he seemed very worried about your disappearance. Though he headed to the village, we believe he will eventually search for you."

A cold hand settled around Iolaus' heart. They were using him as some kind of bait to lure Herc to them. But, he frowned, thinking that didn't make sense...why hadn't they just taken Hercules when they'd taken him?

"What do you want with my friend," he asked, his eyes narrowed in alert suspicion.

"Trouble is coming, and we need help to prevail. Your friend resisted our magic, and we could not bind him. But, perhaps, he can be persuaded to join you here, to stay here with you. We need warriors...and the time has grown short. The battle will be joined soon," she informed him, confusing him further.

Relieved that they didn't seem to have the power to overcome Hercules, but becoming seriously irritated with the muddled jumble of information and her insistance that he was a hostage, Iolaus scowled at her. "Look, you don't have the right to just kidnap people and make them do what you want." He shook his head, running his hand through his hair to push it back from his forehead...but it just tumbled back down again. "And, what battle are you talking about...what do you want us to do?" he asked, trying to make some sense of what she'd told him.

She studied him with regret as she acknowledged, "No...we do not have the right, we know that. But, we have the power, and we have need of you, all of you. The trolls are coming, to drive us from this land as they drove us from our ancient places. We cannot defeat them ourselves, and we're tired of running away from them. You, and the others, will fight the trolls for us and win...or they will kill you."

Iolaus stared at her for a moment, stunned a little by the blunt message. First fairies, and now trolls. This was unbelievable. He threw his hands into the air as he turned in a slow circle of frustration. "I knew it," he muttered. "Every time we try to take a little time off, kick back and relax, something truly bizarre happens...and why is it always 'fight or be killed'?" Coming to a rest once again facing her, he demanded with no little exasperation, "Did it ever occur to you to just ask for help?"

Obviously taken aback by the question, she gazed at him in amazement. "But...why would you choose to help us?"

He just shook his head wearily as he responded, "Because you sound like you need help? Because Herc and I don't like to see bullies beat up on those who can't defend themselves? Look, when Herc gets here, you can explain the problem more clearly, and we'll probably agree to help. You don't have to threaten us."

She shook her head sharply, not believing him. Her eyes flashing her anger, she retorted, "You are trying to deceive me, so that we will set you free. No, we will do this our way."

"But..." Iolaus tried to object, but she just flitted away, agitated, to consult with others of her kind. He cocked his head, watching them for a moment, then shrugged and again headed toward the stream. Only a few feet away from it, he found he couldn't go further. He tried to lift his boot, but his leg wouldn't move. It wasn't as if he'd hit a wall...he just couldn't go any farther away from the centre of the clearing.

And, that's when he began to worry, thinking he might be in more trouble than he'd thought.

He heard someone moving heavily toward the clearing, travelling along the bank of the stream, and blew out a sigh of relief when he recognized his partner. Good, maybe now they could sort this mess out. Smiling a little sheepishly, he waved and called out, "Hercules...great, you found me!"

But, Hercules didn't respond, didn't look at him...didn't seem to have heard him. "Herc?" he called out again, puzzled.

"I told you...you can't be seen, or heard. He doesn't know you are here," she said, hovering by his ear.

Iolaus snapped his head toward her, "Then, make me visible," he growled. But she just shook her head as she watched the demigod stride to the centre of the clearing.

Hercules stopped in the middle of a long, narrow grassy meadow in the heart of the forest and stood looking around, wondering at the strange light that seemed to glow from the plant life. He could hear the ethereal music in the trees, faint but definitely there. This was the place. "Tallerra," he called out. "I'm Hercules...and I've come to get my friend."

Iolaus watched as Herc waited for a response, trying to figure out a way to make himself visible. He could tell Hercules was worried, because his fists were clenched, and his voice was tight. "Who's Tallerra?" he asked the fairy hovering beside him.

"Our Queen," she replied quietly, also watching the demigod, wishing they could simply enchant him as they could other mortals, wondering why they couldn't.

"Tallerra!" Herc called out again. "I'm not leaving here without him!"

One of the fairies under one of the low leaves flitted up from the ground, to fly over to Hercules, glowing a little as she did so. Iolaus noted that as she began to glow, Herc noticed her and figured that the glow signalled to them when they were visible to mortals.

"I am Tallerra," she said, coming to a halt in the air a few feet from the demigod.

Nodding briskly, Herc responded, "What have you done with my friend? Where is he?"

"He's here," she said, causing Herc to look around, frowning when he saw nothing but an empty clearing. "But, you cannot see him. Nor will you. Your friend is ours now, so you'd best just go."

"Uh uh," Herc replied, shaking his head. "I've heard that you give people a chance to get the ones you've stolen back. I demand the right to that chance."

Tallerra studied him quietly, as if she was thinking it over. "And, what will you risk if you fail? You cannot compel me to release him...so there is no benefit to me to allow you the chance to win him back. Unless...."

"NO!" Iolaus shouted, moving to intervene. He knew what was coming. The Queen was going to try to trick Herc into agreeing to stay if he failed whatever damned test they were talking about.

But, Tallerra just cast him a cool glance and otherwise ignored him as she focused her attention on Hercules. He'd be a powerful prize if she could deceive him into serving her.

"Unless what?" Herc demanded, his temper fraying.

"Unless you promise to surrender yourself as well, should you fail to win him back," she murmured, looking at him from under her long lashes. She tilted her head up then, imperious, "I'll grant you the right to try the tests if you give me your word to stay if you fail. Otherwise, you may as well go now, because you'll never see your friend again."

Iolaus had rarely felt so impotent. He gritted his teeth as he grabbed Herc's arm, warning urgently, desperate to be heard, "No, Herc...don't agree. Please...don't. It has to be a trick."

Hercules glanced to the side, a thoughtful frown on his face as he looked down at his arm. His eyes raked the air beside him, certain that Iolaus was there, trying to make contact with him. But, beyond that odd sensation on his arm, there was nothing. His lips curved into a half smile, not needing to hear the words to know what his partner was trying to communicate to him and shook his head a little, refusing the advice.

Turning back to the Queen, he nodded, agreeing to the terms. "Fine. What are the tests?"

"Urrrgghhh!" Iolaus growled in frustration, spinning away. "Why don't you ever listen to me?" he ground out between his clenched teeth. Then, he turned back, to hear the Queen's answer, to hear what Herc would have to do to win this round.

Tallerra smiled, delighted that it had been so easy. The odds were on her side...in all the history of her kind, mortals had won back their loved ones less than a dozen times. And, in each case, there had been a profound, powerful connection between the people involved...she believed it was a rare linking of souls, tied by love that surpassed and transcended normal experience. These mortals were but friends...she had no doubt that this tall warrior before her would fail.

"There are two tests," she told Hercules then, "tests of true love."

"What?" Iolaus intervened, his face a picture of astonished disbelief. True love? Gods, what had they gotten themselves into? It sounded like a child's game...only the stakes were their lives.

She cast him a quelling glance, then turned her attention back to Hercules. He'd caught the flick of her eyes, the flash of annoyance, and was more convinced than ever that Iolaus was standing beside him. He couldn't understand why he couldn't see his buddy. His perceptions were greater than an average mortals, part of his divine heritage, usually allowing him to see what others could not. He felt a prickling on the back of his neck to realize he had no evident talents to penetrate or resist the fairies' magic.

"Go on," he said, impatient to get on with the tests.

"In the first test, you must identify your friend. If you fail, he will belong to us forever, and so will you. If you succeed, we will go on to the second and final test," she explained. Flitting a little away from him, waving at him to draw him after her, she waited until he'd moved to her side, then made a delicate gesture in the air.

Iolaus saw the air shimmer around him, and realized he was being made visible. 'Well, this should be a snap,' he thought, wondering what the catch would be. As he became visible in the clearing, he tried to call out to Herc, tried to move toward him, but found he was frozen, unable to move or speak. With a sinking feeling, he saw replicas of himself standing in the clearing with them. Four of them. Exactly like him. Gods.

Hercules had felt a surge of relief when he saw Iolaus shimmer into sight...only to frown when he found himself confronted with five of his friend. They all just stood there, not moving...probably unable to move. His eyes narrowed, he looked back at Tallerra.

She gave him a smug look of satisfaction. "Only true love can penetrate the illusion, and find the real mortal amidst those I have conjured. So...tell me, which is your friend?"

Herc shook his head once, and bit his lip as he looked back at the five identical men. With a sigh, he moved closer, studying them. Each had the unruly, tousled curls, the tattered patched vest, the talisman. Each had the faint scar over his right eye. All of them had the same brilliant blue eyes, dancing with life and energy. And, they all looked unhappy with what was happening, angry with him for falling into this trap.

He moved to stand close in front of each Iolaus, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he moved from one to the next...until he found the one he was looking for. Lifting one eyebrow, he nodded tightly, letting out a deep breath. She could fake the appearance...but nothing could replicate the way Iolaus could communicate with those eyes. They'd been able to understand one another with a single expressive look for as long as Herc could remember, able to read one another's thoughts out of long familiarity with an almost spooky confidence.

And those eyes were talking to him now, telling him he was every kind of idiot, that he should never have agreed to the tests without knowing what they were, and would he just get on with it and get this over with already. Smiling, he laid a hand on his buddy's shoulder as he said over his shoulder to the Queen of the Fairies, "This one...this is Iolaus."

'Right on!' Iolaus' eyes told him, and then clouded with frustration to realize he still could not speak or move. Herc followed Iolaus' gaze to the Queen, letting his hand drop from Iolaus' shoulder as he turned to face her, also wondering what was going to come next.

She was not pleased. Her lips pressed firmly together, her eyes narrowed in annoyance, she nodded and the illusions faded away. "You have passed the first test," she said flatly.

Herc just gave her a confident smile, "And, the next test is...what exactly?"

Giving him a steely look, she replied, "You must hold your friend in a very firm but loving embrace, no matter what happens. If you once let him go, he is ours...forever...and so will you be."

Herc nodded, turning back to Iolaus and froze...his buddy wasn't there. Looking anxiously around the clearing, he whirled back to the Queen. "Where is he? What have you done with him?"

She laughed, a light silvery sound, taunting him just a little. "You must hold him, as I said. But, first you must catch him. Sometime during this night, I will appear to you in my mortal guise, riding the wind which you will see as a horse. Your friend will be riding with me, and you must pull him from my mount. You'll have but one chance, and I warn you, I'll be racing by on the back of a whirlwind!" With that, she also blinked from sight.

"Great," muttered Hercules, his eyes raking the empty, oddly glowing clearing, wondering what else he couldn't see. He stretched and rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how long he'd have to wait. The night was well along, but there were still a great many hours between him and the dawn.

Unable to relax, and certainly unwilling to sit, lest she choose that moment to race by, he paced the clearing, watching the moon move across the heavens, listening for the sound of the wind. The hours moved past with heavy slowness, the night grew chilly, and still he paced, his eyes constantly roving the area, restlessly watching and waiting for her to come into view. He'd wanted to remain in the centre of the clearing, to give him the best chance to cover the distance to wherever she might appear, but didn't dare, in case she materialized behind his back. So, he'd taken his position close to the stream, pacing along that end of the clearing, growing increasingly impatient as the night wore on.

And, then she was there! Racing into the clearing from the far northern end, cutting a path across to the south. She was an enchanting vision of beauty, her chestnut hair flowing back, caught in the wind, her irridescent cloak glittering as it streamed back behind, almost obscuring Iolaus who was perched, it appeared somewhat precariously, on the rump of her fabulous golden stallion. The magical horse flew across the clearing, its hooves making no sound as it pounded across the ground on their nightly ride across the land.

Herc was in motion as soon as she appeared, cutting across the long clearing to intercept her path, wishing he had Iolaus' speed on the short distances. There was a moment when he didn't think he'd make it, when his heart clenched then pounded with determination, refusing to accept that he was going to lose this race. As she whipped close, and then was passing just beyond his reach, he lunged forward, leaping into the air, arms stretched out...and he got a grip on the flapping vest...and held on tight, dragging Iolaus from the back of her mount, rolling to catch his buddy in his arms, before Iolaus could hit the ground.

"Got you!" cried Herc, as his arms locked around his best friend, his breath heaving, more from relief than exertion. Now, he just had to hold on, no matter what.

Iolaus grunted as they hit the ground hard, his landing cushioned by Hercules, but he figured his buddy would have lost a bit of skin scraping hard against the rough ground as they skidded to a halt.

"Great tackl..." he'd been in the process of shouting when the breath locked in his throat and he felt the world swirl around him, pain ripping through his body, as he felt himself being pulled in directions his skin and bones had never been designed to go. A moan of horrified despair grew in his chest as he realized what was happening.

Herc felt Iolaus change in his arms, his shape shifting into a sand shark which squirmed and fought in his arms, trying to get into the right position to sink those fearsome teeth into his shoulder. The noisome breath of the monster was suffocating, and Hercules had to fight his instinct to let go and get as far away from the disgusting and deadly creature as possible.

"Not real," he growled, holding on firmly, being careful not to exert his strength in a defensive move to crush the ravaging monster. 'A loving embrace', she'd said. This was Iolaus for all it looked like something that was about to eat him, and he wasn't about to forget that. There was too much at stake.

A cry of agony squealed from the monster as its shape began to shift again, obviously causing it great pain. Herc's breath caught, realizing it was Iolaus who was suffering that agony of transformation, not the monster he appeared to be. Gods, what was this doing to him? But, Herc didn't have time to worry about that long, as the sand shark transformed into a raging lion, growling fiercely, and squirming in his grip, trying to fight its way free, digging its powerful claws into the earth to give itself leverage to twist away.

Herc felt his grip slipping as he tried to hang onto the furious, spitting cat that was as large as he was. But, he shifted quickly, moving with the animal, rolling with it rather than resisting it, surprising the beast and allowing him to once again lock his arms around its body, holding gently but remorselessly, not letting go.

The lion gave way to a hydra, its head rising high above him, roaring out its fury. He had to duck his head away from those teeth, when the head plunged down toward him. 'It's not going to kill me!' he told himself, closing his eyes against the illusion to lessen his instinctive reactions to the attack...reactions that would have had him letting go and rolling out of range. 'It's Iolaus...and he wouldn't ever hurt me,' the demigod reminded himself, hoping that Iolaus knew he wasn't really a hydra.

And, he held on.

The hydra changed into a wolf, howling and snarling at being held captive in the relentless arms that would not let it go. This time, Herc did feel the lash of claws ripping through the leather of his pants, tearing at his leg, as the maddened beast pushed against him, desperate for freedom. The sudden pain was an unexpected shock that broke his concentration, again his own body reacting against his will, acting out of long learned, unconscious habit to roll away from attack, to seek another opening for a defensive maneuver. His arms started to slip, and he gasped, "No!" as he quickly reasserted his grip, rolling with the wolf to the ground, again in his anxiety almost grabbing too hard, in a crushing rather than a loving embrace.

'Gods, how much longer?' he wondered, as the wolf screamed out a hideous howl of agony, transforming once again. Herc was sick with the realization of what Iolaus was suffering, desperately wishing the test would end, fearing it would kill his friend if it wasn't over soon. Iolaus couldn't take much more of this torture.

And, just as he had the thought, he found himself again holding his best friend in his arms. Iolaus twisted, groaning in agony, and Hercules quickly shifted so that he was up on one knee, cradling his friend against his chest. "Easy, buddy," he murmured, his heart clenching when he saw the deathly pallor, the sheen of unhealthy sweat and the torment of agony in Iolaus' eyes.

"H..Herc?" his buddy moaned, biting off a scream as another spasm of pain lanced through him. Iolaus was burning with fever, shaking with chills and almost overwhelmed by the agony that racked his body.

Terrified, Hercules looked up and around at the empty clearing, shouting, "Stop this...you're killing him!"

He felt Iolaus grip his arm, and he looked back down into those tormented eyes. "You're going to be all right," the demigod choked around the lump of fear in his throat.

Iolaus shook his head weakly, "Dying," he whispered with a grimace of pain, and he choked, gasping for air, for relief.

Herc held him securely, tight against his chest, until the spasm passed. "I'm not going to let you die!" he promised, his voice hoarse, thick with tears and anger that he could do nothing to ease his friend's suffering...afraid that Iolaus might indeed be dying in his arms.

Iolaus panted, his strength obviously fading. "Thirsty..." he whispered. "Please..."

Hercules picked him up and carried him toward the stream, where he knelt by the water's edge, his eyes raking the ground for something to use as a vessel. He spotted an oddly shaped rock, hollowed in the centre. Not ideal, but it would do.

And, he almost let go, almost reached for the means to give Iolaus the water he craved, almost forgot that he was to hold on, with a loving embrace, no matter what. "No..." the demigod whispered, holding Iolaus firmly in his arms, supporting his buddy as comfortably as he could, "I can't...."

"Need...water...." Iolaus pleaded, the words a last, pitiful request for some relief as he slipped into the darkness.

Hercules was torn, desperate to give his buddy relief, terrified as he watched Iolaus' eyes cloud and as he felt his buddy grow limp in his arms, his breathing fading away. "Gods, no..." he pleaded, not knowing what to do, just knowing he couldn't let go. "Iolaus..."

Tears welled in Hercules' eyes as he pulled his best friend to his heart, his jaw clenched in fear, shuddering with the increasing certainty that Iolaus was really dying. "No," he shouted then, furious with the damned fairies, sick of their games, "don't do this...don't take him...we passed your damned tests! Release him!!"

The fairies heard the ache of love in his voice made angry by fear, saw it in the gentle, desperate embrace, and read it in the grief shimmering in his eyes. They could deny it no longer. Unexpected as it was, having thought these men were no more than ordinary friends, they had to acknowledge that these two souls were indeed bound together by a profound, and very true, love.

Tallerra appeared before him, her eyes filled with compassion. Herc's eyes sought hers, desperate in his need for her to end this test, and to restore Iolaus before it was too late. "You have won," she murmured, and Herc felt the change in his friend immediately. The fever disappeared, the spasms of pain gave way to a sigh of heartfelt relief from his partner as Iolaus pushed back against him.

"I'm okay, Herc," Iolaus mumbled, glad it was finally over. "You can let me go."

Hercules looked down into his friend's eyes, relieved beyond words at the reassuring, steady gaze and nodded, loosening his grip and helping Iolaus to sit up. Iolaus flicked his eyes toward the Fairy Queen as Herc said, his tone a little grim and unforgiving of what his best friend had had to suffer, "Then, I guess we are free to leave."

She swallowed her own sorrow, blinking back her tears. They needed these two so badly. The trolls were almost here, and there was no time to gather more warriors. But, they'd made a bargain, and the men had won. Weary, feeling hopelessness steal over her, she nodded. "Yes...you are free to go," she whispered, her voice hoarse with the grief of their loss.

"Fine," snapped Hercules, as he stood and reached a hand down to help his buddy to his feet. Normally, he would have wondered why they needed warriors, what danger threatened that they took such desperate measures. But, at that moment, he was still so furious with the torture they'd inflicted on his partner that he could care less about their problems. "Let's get out of here, Iolaus," he said, having had more than enough of the place. He was reaching for Iolaus' pack, which he'd left at the edge of the clearing by the stream when he'd been waiting for the Fairy Queen's nightly ride, when he felt Iolaus put a staying hand on his arm.

Puzzled by the gesture, he looked down at his partner with a questioning frown, but Iolaus was still gazing at the Fairy Queen, an expression of deep concern on his face. He'd read the defeat in her eyes, heard the sound of hopeless despair in her voice. "What will the trolls do to you?" he asked quietly.

Surprised, she raised her eyes to his. "They will destroy us," she said simply. "They hate our kind, hate our music, the light we bring," she gestured at the softly glowing clearing. "They are creatures of the dark, and we offend them."

Hercules had listened to the exchange with a growing sense of disorientation. Trolls? What trolls? What were they talking about? "Iolaus?" he asked, his tone conveying all the questions he left unspoken.

His buddy turned to him then, a worried frown on his face. "They need our help, Herc..." he began.

"What?" Herc exclaimed. "They took you captive, held you hostage, tried to trick me into vowing us to them forever and damned near killed you with their...tests! And, now...."

"I know," Iolaus hastened to explain, "and it was wrong...but, they're scared. You can't see them, but they've got about twenty other guys hostage in this clearing...warriors they need to fight off the trolls who are hunting them. Herc, there're hundreds of the little things in this clearing, preparing to make a last stand against odds they know they can't beat. We can't just walk away."

Hercules gazed steadily at Iolaus for a long minute, then rolled his eyes as he sighed heavily. "No...I guess we can't." Turning to Tallerra, he said in a resigned tone, "You better tell us more about these trolls...and do something so that we can see everybody else in this clearing."

She could not believe what she was hearing, no more could her subjects which she could see had frozen in amazement at the words of these men. "You would help us?" she asked, in an awed tone. 'After all we have done to you?' she thought silently.

Both heroes nodded, as Hercules confirmed it. "Yeah...if Iolaus says you need help, then I guess you do. So, about these trolls...."

* * *

They spent the next day preparing the fairies and drilling the other warriors in how best to repulse the attack of the trolls...after they had persuaded the fairies to 'disenchant' the others. At first, the fairies refused, certain all their defenders would simply leave them helpless. But, Hercules was adamant.

"You have no right to force them," he stormed at Tallerra. "Either you let them make their own choice as to whether they stay and fight or leave, or Iolaus and I will go right now. I will not be a party to forcing men to fight as slaves."

"But...if they go, we'll never survive," she protested. Twenty were better than two. "Go then. Better that we should have all of them than only the two of you!"

Iolaus intervened, his hands out in a peaceful, placating gesture. "Whoa! Calm down...both of you. Tallerra, given the choice, understanding your need for help, we elected to stay. These men are warriors, and seem honourable...they might not all stay, but some will. Herc's right...you can't force them against their will to face an enemy who might well kill them. It's not right."

Hercules was giving a smug nod at the fairy, agreeing with everything Iolaus had just said, when his buddy turned to face him. "And, as for you...you haven't been exactly clear about what you bring to the party."

"Well, I..." Herc began, his face assuming an expression of innocent humility, as if who he was couldn't possibly matter...and besides, his offhanded shrug seemed to say, it had slipped his mind.

Iolaus just snorted, and shook his head as he turned back to the Fairy Queen. "Herc is not mortal like I am. He's half god, the son of Zeus, and he has the strength of maybe a hundred ordinary men. Believe me, even if the rest decide to go, you're still better off with Herc and me than you are with all of them."

Her eyes had widened at Iolaus' words. Though the fairies and the gods had little to do with one another, they weren't unaware of one another's existence. The Olympian Gods were powerful, Zeus most of all...and if this was his son? No wonder they had not been able to enchant him. Her eyes narrowed then in speculation as she considered her choices. Finally, she huffed, throwing her hands high in exasperation. "Fine," she agreed. "We will give them the right to choose."

The other men had been eavesdropping unashamedly to the debate about their situation, and they each had already begun to consider whether they'd stay or go, given the choice. Three of the men were married, with families who depended on them, so their choice was clear and unequivocal. They weren't about to risk their lives for a pack of fairies against the unknown threat of trolls, not when there had been no suggestion the trolls posed any danger to mortals. But, the others were men on their own, wanderers, seekers of adventure. Several were mercenaries and speculated about what kind of reward the fairies might give them if they triumphed.

They'd gotten to know one another over the past several months, and some chose to stay just because a comrade decided to do so. And, they had to admit, the fairies had never mistreated them. The little things weren't evil. They'd noticed the fear and agitation amongst their captors whenever the subject of the trolls was raised, and they supposed they could understand how fear would drive the little beings to desperate actions. So, much to the surprise of the fairies, seventeen decided to stay and face the trolls.

To begin with, Iolaus and Hercules, along with the other men, spent time with the fairies, getting briefed on what to expect from the trolls and exploring what the fairies could bring to their own defence. They could weave webs of gossamer threads which could not be broken...perfect for nets, traps and barricades. Their fairy dust could work on trolls, confusing the enemy and rendering them unconscious. Their powers of illusion could make it seem like there were far more warriors than they had, and the illusion would hold until the trolls attacked and discovered the deception. All in all, the heroes thought they had a better than average chance of fighting off the trolls.

But, the trolls did pose certain challenges. They were powerful fighters, built low to the ground with the strength in their shoulders and arms. They carried distinctive weapons, including curved axe-like swords, and cleaver-like daggers. But, the biggest worry was that they drenched their weapons in poison. The fairies knew the poison would kill them, but no one knew whether it would also be deadly for mortals. Grimly, silently, the men assumed they'd likely find out.

Iolaus spent the afternoon with Arawinn, the fairy he'd met the first night in their clearing, and with several of the others, showing them where to spin their webs, creating booby traps, using their nets to block passages, forcing the enemy to follow certain trails. It was a tactic to make the trolls come at them in single file, preventing them from making a concentrated charge that could too easily overwhelm the defenders. Iolaus laughed often and long as he taught the fairies 'old hunter's tricks' for capturing or immobilizing a bigger, stronger prey.

Meanwhile, Hercules worked with the mortal warriors, learning their particular strengths, positioning archers at strategic points, and drilling those who would fight on how to take out an enemy who was likely far stronger than they were. Herc reminded them about the poison, so they could take as much care as possible in avoiding slashing cuts.

The sentries flitted in that evening, twittering in agitated fear. More than two hundred trolls had entered the wood from the north and would reach the area the defenders had chosen for the battle by midnight.

The time for preparation was over....

* * *

Iolaus made a face when he spotted his first troll lumbering through the darkened forest with a peculiar rolling gait on it's short, bandy legs. Heavy browed and lantern-jawed, with a thick mane of wiry black hair, massive shoulders and arms bulging with muscle, clothed only in loincloths, not needing any more protection from the elements than their densely haired bodies already provided, he had to admit they weren't the ugliest enemies he'd ever faced...but they didn't look like they'd be the life of any party.

That was the last chance he had to think about anything but fighting and survival for the rest of that night. Their preparations might have been hasty, but they proved to be effective. The trolls found themselves trapped in paths that went nowhere, blocked by nets, picked off by archers high above and out of reach. Many ended up rolled helplessly in nets, sprinkled with fairy dust and magically transported a hundred miles away. Still others followed the woodland pathways, angered that there was no room to travel more than single file...and at the end of those paths, they found determined and skilled warriors, ready and waiting for them.

By the time the sun began to rise, the trolls had made little headway. Indeed, when they regrouped for the day, taking refuge from the sun in the darkest part of the forest, they were almost staggered by the day's losses. Fewer than one hundred of them remained, and they knew they'd only killed four or five of the mortals and less than a score of fairies. Rather than consider that perhaps they were outmatched and should just withdraw, they fanned their fury and their battle lust all through the day, vowing revenge on the hated fairies and the men who dared stand with them. They weren't terribly bright, but they knew enough to figure out that they needed a different strategy. Drawing possible maneuvers in the dirt with sticks, they finally decided that ten of their number would circle wide and try to come up on the fairies and the men from behind, ambushing them as the main force created a distraction.

Back in the clearing, the defenders were evaluating their losses. Four of the warriors had been killed in battle, dying of the severity of their wounds, so no one yet knew if the poison was deadly or not for mortals. Grimly, they buried their dead, checked their perimeters, reset the traps and moved nets around to create different channels through the forest to confuse the trolls. Weary, they finally retreated to the clearing, slumping onto the ground, too tired to eat.

Arawinn flitted over to land beside Iolaus who was sprawled on the ground wondering when he'd last had any sleep. He quirked a brow at the fairy that was little bigger than the length of his hand and gave her a crooked grin. "We did pretty good last night," he said quietly, stifling a yawn.

She nodded gravely, looking troubled. "What's wrong," asked Iolaus, pushing himself up to sit with his legs crossed.

"We did do well," she agreed, "very well...better than we'd ever dared imagine." She paused a moment, then continued with a look of confusion mixed with gratitude. "To be honest, Iolaus, we didn't think we'd survive the attack...we're just so tired of running. They've given us no peace for more than five hundred years."

Iolaus raised his brows at that. There hadn't been time to learn the details of the history of the conflict between these two foreign beings. "That's a long time," he murmured.

"Yes, it is...I remember the peace and beauty of our original homeland, and the terror when we had to run...and run again, over and over," she said quietly, then smiled at the surprise on his face. "You didn't know we lived so long? Barring murder by the trolls, we're pretty much immortal."

Iolaus swallowed at that. They seemed so young, he'd just thought...well, he hadn't really thought about it. He wondered if death held more terror for a being who was otherwise immortal, than it did for beings like him who knew they had but a short span. But, it wasn't something he really wanted to ask.

"I...I want to thank you, Iolaus," she said quietly, biting her lip and twisting her little hands. Looking up at him earnestly, she continued, "The first night, you said we should just ask for help, but I didn't believe you. Instead, we held you captive and hurt you...and, still you stayed to help us, just because we needed it."

Iolaus waved off her gratitude. It wasn't necessary. "Don't worry about it," he said.

But, she persisted. "You don't understand. In all the span of our existence, no one has ever helped us before...mortals, fairies, elves, trolls...we all have lived separately, only occasionally coming into contact with one another. And, for all of the last five hundred years, when we have needed help, there was no one to offer...nor did we ever expect any. You, and your friend Hercules, and the other men have taught us what we never knew. That we are not alone...that we can make friends with other beings. That all other beings are not fearsome or uncaring like the trolls , but can be courageous and compassionate. I'm sorry for what we did to you. And, grateful that you still chose to protect us, even at the risk of your own life."

Iolaus bent his head, and shrugged a little before looking back at her. "I'm glad if you've learned you aren't alone in this world...and we're all glad to help you. It's going to be all right, you know. The trolls aren't going to drive you from this wood, not this time."

She smiled then, her eyes alight with hope. "Regardless of what happens, my friend," she said, hesitating a little over the term of affection, warmed when he nodded and grinned at her, accepting it, "so long as you and the others live, we will be in your debt. Should you ever have need of us, you have but to let us know and our magic will be at your hand."

"Neat," Iolaus replied, grinning as he wondered how fairy dust would work on Ares or Discord. "You could be sorry for that offer...I just might take you up on it!"

Her laughter was light as tiny windchimes, high and joyful. "No...we would never be sorry to hear again from you," she assured him, meaning it with all her heart.

* * *

They were up before the sun set, preparing for the attack they knew would come with the dark. Hercules was leaning against a tree, watching Iolaus hone the edge of his sword. "Some holiday this turned out to be," the demigod observed, a faint grin dancing on his lips.

Iolaus chuckled, "Yeah...well, we've had worse 'holidays'. But, you know, I think we may be missing something in the whole concept. When other people talk about their holidays, they never seem to include stories of monsters, or trolls they have met."

Herc laughed softly, stretching as he stood away from the tree. "You could be right, Iolaus," he allowed, his eyes laughing. "Maybe if you could stay out of trouble for more than a couple of hours at a time, we'd get to experience a normal vacation."

Iolaus looked up at his friend from where he sat on the ground, shaking his head. "Look, it wasn't my idea to take this holiday...this one is your doing, buddy. I just said I was tired...you didn't have to go to so much trouble to divert me from our usual diet of warlords, bandits and monsters. Although," he continued with a grin up at his buddy, "the fairies are kinda cute."

Herc ruffled Iolaus' hair playfully, drawing a mild protest from his friend, as he watched their perimeter, listening. It wouldn't be long now.

They had plenty of warning. The trolls weren't subtle fighters, crashing through the undergrowth, shouting their imprecations in their strange garbled tongue, waving their swords and cleavers threateningly as they charged along the pathways through the dense forest. The defenders fell into their almost workmanlike habits of thrust and parry, twist and roll, stab and slash, with arrows winging from above, harrying the trolls, irritating, diverting and decimating them.

It was about two hours into the battle, when Iolaus dropped and rolled under a sweeping sword thrust, while Herc swung a sturdy branch over the space he'd been in, knocking the troll high into the trees to land far back out of sight. As Iolaus came back up, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Jerking his head in that direction, he shouted sharply, "Herc...behind us!"

Hercules turned in time to catch one of the cleaver like daggers flying at him and tossed it aside. Iolaus came up into position, his sword balanced in front of him as he made a quick head count. Looked like about a dozen of them had almost taken them by complete surprise. He tucked away the knowledge that trolls could indeed move silently when they chose to do so. Not as dumb as they looked.

The trolls moved in eerie silence, noticing the two mortals seemed alone, separated from the others. Their eyes glittering with hatred and the expectation of victory, they swarmed out and around the two heroes, their swords and knives flashing in the moonlight. Back to back, Hercules and Iolaus fought them off, mindful that other trolls from their main army were still coming at them down the forest paths.

Herc swung his branch with grim deliberation, cracking heads, breaking limbs and sending a couple high into the trees. Iolaus parried sword thrusts and slashed and cut, disabling and when necessary killing the furious trolls that just kept coming. Assuming he'd be the easier target of the two men they were attacking, the trolls converged on Iolaus, but he was more than holding his own. Hercules was dealing with two more that had just emerged down the forested path, when Iolaus saw another cleaver-like knife flying toward his friend's back. He swung his sword, calling a warning to Hercules as he did so. Herc crashed the heads of his two assailants together, knocking them cold, and twisted quickly, but not fast enough. Iolaus' sword slashed through the air, his consummate timing and skill intercepting the weapon and diverting it away, where it fell harmlessly to the ground.

But, his defensive maneuvre had left him vulnerable. Hercules eyes widened as he saw a troll coming at Iolaus from his blind side, and called a sharp warning. Iolaus continued the turn he'd begun when he'd swung his sword up to knock the blade from the air, coming around on his heel, his sword catching the troll in the left side, as the troll's right arm came down and plunged the blade deep into Iolaus' shoulder.

The troll, dead even as it completed its assault on the blond warrior, crumpled to the ground at Iolaus' feet. As Hercules jumped to back his friend up against the trolls that were still coming at them, Iolaus swung his sword one handed, taking out another attacker. His left arm, stunned and nerveless from the blow to his shoulder, hung useless at his side.

Herc swung the tree limb wide, clearing a space around them, as he called over his shoulder to Iolaus, "Are you all right?" He'd thought the blow had looked bad, but when Iolaus stayed on his feet, and kept fighting, he wasn't sure.

The demigod heard the clang of iron and steel, then heard another troll shout in pain as Iolaus plunged his blade into the enemy's chest. Iolaus looked around, feeling dazed, and was immensely relieved to not see any more trolls in his immediate vicinity.

"Iolaus?" Herc called again, anxiety in his voice, as he cast a quick look over his shoulder, and saw his buddy standing over a dead troll, before he had to look back at his own attackers.

Iolaus looked at the blade that was buried in his shoulder, feeling the burn, and then the sharp pain as the shock of the injury wore off. "Yeah?" he answered almost absently, wondering if he should take it out, deciding it would likely bleed too much.

"Are you all right?" demanded the demigod, slamming another troll into a tree.

Herc looked back again over his shoulder, and saw Iolaus turn to face him. His buddy was shaking his head a little, as he mumbled, "No...don't think I...." The blond warrior's knees buckled as he sank to the ground, his sword still in his hand.

His heart in his throat, Hercules stepped back two paces, standing over his partner, shielding him from further attack as he continued to battle the trolls that raged toward them. He glanced down and saw that Iolaus was conscious, but seemed dazed, lying on his back, his eyes clouded with confusion.

Hercules fought with barely controlled fury. The trolls believing they had achieved an advantage, crowded in, but Herc swung his tree branch without mercy. When it finally cracked and broke under the abuse it had taken for hours, he dropped to one knee quickly beneath the slice of a sword and grabbed up Iolaus' weapon, bringing it up to block another thrust. Then, he was back on his feet, the sword but a blur in his hand as he fought the trolls back. He caught another blade thrown at him, and instead of tossing it away as he usually did, he flipped it and threw it back at his attacker, killing him.

To Hercules, it seemed an eternity until he'd driven off or killed the trolls that had surrounded them. All he could think of was his need to see to Iolaus, to make sure his buddy was all right. But, it couldn't have been much more than five minutes later that he was able to drop to his knee beside his friend, swallowing the bile in his throat at the sight of the ugly blade that was buried deep in Iolaus' shoulder, angling up in a shallower wound into Iolaus' upper chest.

Remembering the poison, Herc pulled off his vest, and then his shirt, wadding it into a makeshift bandage. Slipping a hand under Iolaus' neck to support the back of his head, Hercules murmured, "This is going to hurt."

Awareness grew in Iolaus' eyes and he nodded once, his glance darting a little. Understanding, Hercules grabbed a small stick from the ground, and placed it gently between Iolaus' lips. The warrior bit on it, and nodded again weakly to indicate he was ready.

Hercules took his hand from the back of Iolaus' head, laying it now on his buddy's right shoulder as his right hand grabbed the ugly blade and pulled it out of his partner's body. Iolaus' body arced a little and he groaned, tears beginning to glitter in his eyes as he spit away the stick. Herc had quickly covered the gaping wound with his bunched up shirt, pressing down tightly to try to stop the bleeding.

"Iolaus?" he called, his voice tight with fear as he slipped his other hand back under and around his buddy's neck. "You still with me?"

Iolaus felt Herc's hands, heard his voice and struggled to focus on his buddy's eyes. "Herc?" he murmured. "Feel...strange...."

"Just take it easy, buddy..." Hercules replied, alarmed at the vague look in his friend's eyes, and the confused anxiety that Iolaus appeared to be feeling as he tried to sort out what was happening to him.

"Doesn't hurt...not bad..." Iolaus sighed, and almost smiled when he felt Herc reassuringly tighten the hand around the back of his neck.

Looking up and around, frantic with worry for his friend, Hercules shouted, "Tallerra! Tallerra, we need you!"

The Fairy Queen sparkled into sight, her face falling in sorrow when she saw Iolaus down. Her eyes flashed to those of Hercules, nodding her understanding, "I'll bring you what you need," she affirmed before again flashing from sight.

"Numb," Iolaus muttered. His limbs felt heavy, too heavy too move, and he could feel the numbness, as if his limbs had fallen asleep, tingling slightly, as it crept through his body.

"You'll be all right," Hercules told him, but the aching fear in his eyes belied his words. Iolaus' breathing was growing laboured under the hand that held the improvised dressing to his shoulder and chest, slowing as his buddy struggled to draw in air.

Tallerra flashed back into view, other fairies with her, some carrying cloth, others bearing herbs, they fluttered down beside the fallen hero, putting the supplies Hercules needed near to hand. He reached quickly for the herbs and the cloth, tending the wound, again applying pressure upon it to stop the bleeding.

Iolaus watched Hercules work over him, wishing he didn't feel so...remote. He felt as if he was beginning to drift. "Herc?" he murmured, his voice very faint.

The demigod looked up from the wound, and brushed Iolaus' hair back from his face with his left hand. "I'm here, buddy," he answered quietly.

"Not...doing too well," Iolaus whispered, blinking heavily, trying to stay focused.

Hercules jaw tightened as he forced the lump down from his throat. Slipping his hand again under Iolaus' neck, he squeezed gently to bring what comfort he could. "Hang on, Iolaus," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "Please...don't...."

Iolaus tried to rally, struggling for breath, held Herc's eyes with his own. "Don't want...to go...." he panted, but he couldn't seem to stave off the lassitude that was stealing over him...couldn't....

Herc's grip on his buddy's neck tightened, trying by his touch to hold Iolaus there with him. He was fighting the tears that threatened to blind him, biting his lip to keep it from trembling, as he watched Iolaus slip into unconsciousness. "Gods, Iolaus..." he whispered.

"Don't look too good, do I?" observed a voice close beside him, sounding concerned.

Startled, shocked by the sound of Iolaus' voice practically in his ear, Herc's head jerked up...and he saw Iolaus standing there. "What...?" he stammered, looking back down at his failing friend, unconscious on the ground.

When Herc looked back at him, Iolaus shrugged, "I'm not sure what's happening, Herc...I felt like I was floating...drifting sort of...and the next thing I knew, I'm standing here....Only, I'm obviously not all here." Tentatively, Iolaus reached out a hand to place it on Herc's shoulder, and grimaced when his touch just passed right through the demigod. "Ugghh...that's not anything I ever wanted to see," he shivered.

Confused, Hercules turned to the fairies, "What's happening?" he asked. The thought of Iolaus as a spectre brought him no comfort and he looked hastily around to see if either Thanatos or Celesta were lurking near by.

Tallerra flitted forward, catching his eye. "The poison is killing him, and he has only a few moments left," she explained, her voice full of pain at the thought of this sacrifice on their behalf. "I've put a trance over him that will hold him between life and death for two days."

Iolaus frowned as he looked down at his body. This didn't sound good. Looking back up at the Fairy Queen, he asked, "Why am I here...I mean, instead of being inside...well, you know what I mean."

Tallerra gazed at him, wondering how to explain something she did not fully understand herself. "I could feel you resist, not wanting to die...I think your soul felt the magic and struggled to get away, causing you to separate from your body before the spell took hold."

Herc looked down at Iolaus' body, and with a thrill of sick horror, he realized Iolaus was no longer breathing. Overwhelmed, his body trembling in reaction to the wave of grief that assailed him, he shook his head, "I don't understand...can you help him?"

Iolaus watched her with narrowed eyes, wondering the same thing.

"There is a pool sacred to our kind a day's journey north. We must take him there, and immerse his body within it. Perhaps...perhaps our magic can help fight this poison that is foreign to your kind. But, I'm sorry...I do not know. If it doesn't work," she paused, looking away from their anxious eyes, "in two days...I will have to let him go."

Herc nodded stiffly. Any hope was better than none. "Fine...let's go," he said, bending to gather Iolaus' body into his arms.

"Herc," his buddy's soul intervened, "We have to finish driving off the trolls first."

Swivelling to look up at his buddy, impatient with the need to leave, his eyes challenged his friend, as Hercules objected, "Iolaus...I need to get you to help as soon as I can."

Shaking his head, Iolaus replied, "We've got two days...and Tallerra says it only takes a day to get there. We've got time to finish this." Iolaus stared down at his body for a long moment, biting his lip. This was not a good feeling. Sighing, he continued, a trace of steel in his voice, "Take my body back to the clearing, then let's trash these guys."

Hercules gritted his teeth, wanting to argue, knowing there was no point. Iolaus was right. If they didn't finish the trolls, they might just have to fight them on their way north. Better to end it now. Nodding reluctant agreement, he bent to pick up his friend's limp body and carried him back through the forest to the clearing, away from the fighting that was still continuing sporadically. There weren't many trolls left, and those who were still alive were beginning to think it was time to go home, while they still could.

Leaving Iolaus' body under the watchful eyes of the fairies, Hercules headed back to the battle, Iolaus' soul right behind him. He might not be able to fight, but he could still watch Herc's back for him. By the time the sun had begun its journey from the east, the last of the trolls had turned tail and loped away to the north.

Herc stood breathing hard, watching them disappear into the trees. He knew Iolaus was standing beside him, but he kept his head turned away, trying to come to grips with what was happening. Rubbing a hand across his mouth, he finally turned to face his friend. Iolaus was watching him, compassion in his eyes. "Feels weird, doesn't it?" the spectre said.

Gazing at him, Hercules nodded, swallowing hard, a hand coming to rest over his stomach, feeling sick. "Yeah," he finally managed to say, his eyes dark with anxiety. "Iolaus...you might be dead."

"'Might be' is the operative term, Herc...don't think about it unless we have to," Iolaus consoled him, trying for a grin, not quite making it. "Come on, let's check out that magical pool," he said, turning back toward the clearing.

* * *

They travelled until dusk, Hercules carrying Iolaus' body, a half dozen of the warriors who had decided to travel with them in case they ran into what was left of the trolls, and a small contingent of fairies, flitting around them, subdued with their deep concern about whether or not this quest would be successful. Iolaus walked along beside Hercules, visible only to the fairies and his buddy. The fairies had explained to the other warriors what was going on, so they knew Iolaus was there, that they just couldn't see him. Having spent much of the last six months invisible themselves in the fairies' clearing, they weren't all that uncomfortable with the idea.

When dusk came and they still had not reached the pool, Herc asked how much further they had to go. And, that's when they learned the fairies measured a day from sunrise to sunrise, not sunrise to sunset. They still had a long way to go. They pushed on well after dark, but it was too far, and they needed to rest. No one had slept for more than two days. Hercules was impatient with the delay, and would have carried on, but the fairies were drooping and the warriors with them were dead on their feet.

"There's time, Herc...we don't have to keep pushing tonight. We'll make it by midday tomorrow, and that leaves us hours before the two days are up," Iolaus said quietly. Hercules looked down at him, and after gazing at the others, he gave a resigned sigh. Nodding, he looked around, spotted what looked like a comfortable spot nearby and headed in that direction. A few moments later, Hercules laid his burden carefully on the ground, straightening his buddy's limbs, as if trying to make him more comforable. Iolaus shook his head a little, murmuring quietly, "It's okay, Herc...it doesn't hurt...I can't feel any of this."

Hercules cut a quick look up at him and nodded as he sat back on the ground to keep watch over his friend's body. Iolaus had grown cold in his arms, and lay now so silent and still, his skin alabaster under the silver light of the moon. Herc took a deep breath, and lifted his eyes to the friend who was still standing beside him. "It's hard...I know you're here, but..." he said quietly. Though his voice trailed off, Iolaus could see the fear in his friend's eyes, and knew it was for him.

Iolaus dropped down onto the ground beside him, wishing he could touch Herc, but only able to be with him. And maybe not for much longer. "I know," he replied quietly. "Gives me the willies to look at myself like that, to be honest with you. But, hey, at least you can see me...that time with Timeron, I couldn't even see you. Now, that was weird...wondering if the moving bush was you or not."

Iolaus had brought back those memories deliberately, although they also held a measure of pain. They'd been through something like this before, when Herc had been a spectre, having lent his body to Timeron for twenty-four hours, and Iolaus had almost been killed by Ares. But, the point of the story was that it had all worked out in the end. They'd gotten through a lot...they'd get through this, too. Somehow.

Herc granted him a sad smile, knowing that his buddy was trying to make him feel better. "I'm glad you're still here," he said, meaning it with all of his heart.

"Yeah, well, I'm not that easy to get rid of...and I don't want to go. So, that dip in the pool is just going to have to work, that's all," Iolaus said stoutly, not willing to consider the other alternative.

At least, not yet.

Hercules nodded as he looked away into the night, desperately hoping that Iolaus' confident prediction would come true.

* * *

They reached the pool just after noon the next day. It was a secluded, peaceful spot, high in the northern hills. A small, still turquoise pool, infinitely deep, surrounded by thick forest and wild flowers. They made camp, then Herc stripped off Iolaus' clothes before removing his own. Silently, he carried his buddy's body to the edge of the pool. Seeing that it dropped suddenly away, he laid Iolaus down on the edge, slipped in himself, then with the help of two of the warriors, eased Iolaus' body into the water, treading water as he supported his friend's limp form.

Tallerra flitted over to hover in the air near by. "You'll have to immerse him completely, and hold him under the water for at least an hour," she explained.

Ignoring the icy chill of the water, Herc nodded silently, shifting his grip so that he force the body that wanted to float down under the surface of the pool. It made him sick, and it took everything he had to hold Iolaus under the water, seeing his buddy's face distorted by the refraction of the light, feeling as if he were drowning Iolaus, not saving his life.

"Herc, look at me," commanded his buddy's voice from the pool's edge. Iolaus had seen Herc going a little green, saw the horror in his friend's eyes, and knew he had to distract him. When Hercules looked up at him, his jaw clenched tight, Iolaus continued, "That's not me, Herc...I'm here. You're not hurting me, do you understand. Don't look."

Hercules eyes skittered away a moment then came back and locked on his best friend's. He nodded, feeling as if Iolaus' burning, compassionate gaze was all that was holding him together right then. He treaded water, and time dragged by. The fairies flitted and dipped in the air around them, chanting in some mysterious tongue, their voices like crystal chimes, until one by one, they dropped to the ground, watching silently, their eyes wide and full of sorrow. It was then that Hercules realized that if this was working, the image standing before him, looking so strong and alive, shouldn't be there. If Iolaus was going to revive, his soul should feel a pull back to his body.

When Iolaus saw the hopelessness wash into Herc's eyes, he knew with a sinking feeling that his buddy had just realized something he'd thought about some time before. With a look of infinite sadness at his friend, he bit his lip as he let his eyes drop to the body, his body, under the surface of the water. He felt no connection to that body, even felt a kind of revulsion about going back into it because he was pretty sure his body was never going to wake up again.

Hercules bowed his head, a tear slipping down his cheek as he looked down at his buddy, and slowly let him rise back to the surface. Iolaus' expression was relaxed, peaceful, and the white perfection of his face made him look like a statue, the water running unheeded from his skin, his wet curls trailing in the water like a golden halo. For a moment, Herc just felt numb, unable to take it in, unable to accept...his heart reached for one hope, then another. He would go to Hades, and promise the God of the Underworld anything, if only....or cry out for Michael, and plead for another miracle....

But, as the chill of the water penetrated his soul, Hercules knew there were no more deals, no more reprieves. Hades would give him a cold, pitying look and turn away. An alien poison, in a battle they'd chosen to fight...there was nothing there to persuade Hades to intervene. And, Iolaus might not even go to the Other Side. More likely, Michael would take him into the Light...a place Hercules couldn't go, as he could go to the Elysium Fields, to see his family and his best friend again, if only for awhile. Michael didn't make deals. He'd just stand there austere and stern, telling him it was the will of the Light, that Iolaus had had his chance, and it was over now. Herc's hands spasmed, gripping the body tightly, knowing they'd lost...that he wasn't going to get Iolaus back this time.

Iolaus had watched him from the water's edge, understanding only too well the expressions he saw fleeting across Herc's face as he gazed with a hopeless desperation at Iolaus' lifeless body. Gazing up the sky, the blond warrior wondered if there were any deals that he could make or offer...but knew there weren't. Zeus would be regretful, Aphrodite would wring her hands, Ares would laugh, and Artemis would shrug and turn away. Hades would tell him to just get used to it, and Michael would lecture him on his role as Guardian, his responsibility to accept the will of the Light. He felt a deep ache, a loss so profound that it filled his spirit with a wrenching grief. He wasn't ready, it wasn't time...he couldn't do this, couldn't just go. He knew it was hopeless, impossible, but when he turned his gaze back to his friend, and saw what this was costing Hercules, he knew that he had to find some way to stay.

There had to be a way.

Finally, Hercules made his way back to the edge of the pool, and the silent, saddened warriors lifted Iolaus' body from him, laying it gently on the ground. Hercules levered himself up and out, kneeling beside his buddy's body, as he turned his eyes up to his buddy's soul. Two sets of blue eyes, darkened by grief, filled with a desperation for salvation, searched one another for some inspiration, some idea...both shadowed with the knowledge that there was nothing either of them could do. Wordlessly, Hercules just shook his head, knowing if he let his control go, he'd be unable to contain the grief that pounded on his heart, and tore at his soul.

Iolaus looked away, unable to look at that pain, unable to relieve it, and let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry, Herc...."

Blinking hard, Hercules turned to look for Tallerra, still unwilling to completely give up. The fairies had a magic of their own, maybe they could do something more. Spotting her nearby, he asked, "Is there anything else we can do?"

Tears flowed unchecked from her eyes as she shook her head. "No...I'm sorry. When we are sorely hurt, this water opens a path for our healing spells...but, our magic did not work in this case. We have nothing more, nothing else to offer."

Herc nodded tightly once, trying to accept it, not really able to. "How long do we have?"

"I can hold the trance a few more hours...but that is all," she said softly.

He let out a sigh. So little time left. Looking toward the warriors, he said quietly. "Thank you for coming with us...but, you need not stay any longer. I...." his voice cracked as he turned his face away from them.

Understanding that he wished for solitude in his grief, they nodded quietly, and sadly turned to go. They'd admired the feisty little warrior, and all of them knew they owed their freedom to the two heroes. But, they also knew life was hard, and the best ones, the ones who gave the most, risked the most, often paid the heaviest price.

Iolaus looked to Tallerra and cocked his head toward the forest. Understanding, she flitted away, drawing her fairies with her, to leave them alone, to give them privacy. Arawinn was the last to fly away, her eyes full of tears as she regarded the spirit of the man who had saved all of them...but who they were unable to save in his turn. Iolaus saw her sorrow, and just closed his eyes as he shook his head a little. It wasn't their fault. When he opened his eyes again, she was gone.

"Herc...are you all right?" Iolaus said softly, frowning with worry as he studied his friend. Hercules had gone very pale and seriously looked like he might collapse from the freezing cold of the water he'd suffered, and from the grief that was washing over him in waves.

The demigod just shook his head as he bent to lift the body into his arms and went back to the forest's edge, where he'd left their clothing. Silently, he dressed Iolaus' body and then clothed himself. Finished, he slowly settled onto the ground, his back against a log. The spectre of his friend came to sit on the log near him.

"I don't know how to do this, Iolaus," Hercules murmured, his voice low and tight. "I don't know how to let you go...or how to go on without you." He looked up at the clear sky, tears shimmering in his eyes. "I don't know if I want to."

Iolaus bent his head, studying the hands he had clasped over his legs, silent for a long moment. It struck him that this was the first time he'd had the chance to think objectively about dying. Usually, he was in so much pain, or it happened so fast, that he didn't have to deal with the reality of it until it was over. Iolaus didn't fear death...he knew it too intimately. But, he really didn't want to go. Was there perhaps one option they hadn't considered, one last way of beating the inevitability of death's wall between them?

Lifting his eyes, he gazed dispassionately upon his body. What if he just never went back inside? What if he just stayed here, and let the body die without him? Others wouldn't be able to see him, and in tough situations, that could be an advantage. He couldn't fight, but he could scout, stand guard and scare the boots off any bad guys if he made himself visible. He'd rather be here than Elysium. For a moment, he thought of the bliss of the Light, but then he looked down at Hercules, his buddy's head bowed on the arms he'd crossed over his knees.

"Herc?" he said then, with a quiet determination, "You don't have to let go...I'm not going anywhere."

Herc blew out a bitter sigh. "It's not like you have a choice...."

"Yeah, Herc, I do," Iolaus interrupted him. "Look, I know it'll be different, but I don't need a body to watch your back. If Thanatos or Celesta show up, I'll send them packing. We both know there are spirits who stay in this plane. I'm not going."

Hercules looked up at him, a wondering look in his eyes, caught by the possibility. But, then his eyes clouded, "No...a soul can only last outside its body on this plane for three days...after that, you'd be trapped here forever, never able to have any peace."

Iolaus snorted softly, "So, who wants peace? I don't want to go. Herc, you could be immortal...it wouldn't be the same, but at least this way, I'd be able to stay with you. There's no place else I want to be."

Hercules looked away, not sure what to say. Gods, he wanted Iolaus to stay, there was no question about that...he never, ever wanted to say good bye to the best friend he'd ever had. He honestly didn't know if he could get through losing Iolaus again. His arms tightened across his chest, holding in the pain that stabbed through him at the very thought. But...could he let Iolaus risk his soul this way?

It scared him, knowing that it was wrong...knowing he didn't want Iolaus to go....

* * *

They talked about it through the rest of the afternoon and until the light of the sun faded from the sky, Iolaus alternatively adamant and persuasive, cajoling Hercules to accept his decision. It was his soul after all...he should have the right to decide where he chose to spend eternity.

Badly as he wanted to accede, Herc wasn't sure they should do this. Hercules remembered the time when he'd held Iolaus' life in his body, refusing to let him die, even though Iolaus had suffered so much pain that he'd deserved the release of death. At the time, Herc had been disgusted with himself, knowing he'd do anything, let Iolaus suffer anything, if it meant he could hold onto him, not let him go.

But...that had been a fight for Iolaus' life. This time, it was his best friend's soul that was in question. As the moon rose in the sky, turning the world around them silver in its light, he knew he couldn't do it. It was wrong, deeply wrong. He didn't have the right to hold Iolaus' soul.

Iolaus saw the sorrow that followed Herc's decision steal across his face. "It wouldn't be right," Herc said huskily, his voice thick with the pain it was costing him to let go.

Iolaus looked up at the stars, feeling as if he could cry, but a spirit has no tears. "I don't care about what's right," he said flatly as he turned his eyes back to Hercules. "You need me, and I don't want to leave you."

"Iolaus," Hercules replied wearily, turning to face his friend, "It's your soul that's at stake here...I can't...I can't risk that. I don't want everything we've had, our friendship, to cost you that. You've given your whole life to me, to stand by me...but, I can't let you give me your soul, too."

Iolaus sighed as he shook his head. Quietly, he answered, "Herc...I gave it to you a long time ago."

Those simple words ripped through Hercules heart, and overwhelmed by the anguish that surged through him, he was unable to stifle the sob that rose from his chest, his eyes filling with hot tears that spilled over onto his cheeks as he heaved for breath. He understood what Iolaus meant, because he felt the same way. He'd give anything for this man, surrender all that he was. But, all that he was, wasn't enough. He couldn't save Iolaus' life, couldn't save him the pain of this separation...and he couldn't help himself. He didn't know how he could live without Iolaus, and he shuddered with the knowledge that he had no choice. He loved Iolaus too much to let him give this, his very essence to Hercules, sacrificing eternity for him.

"Oh gods, Iolaus," he murmured hoarsely, "I wish I could accept...but I can't. I couldn't stand knowing I'd cost you that....I...can't hold you this way."

Iolaus slipped off the log to kneel close beside his best friend, wishing desperately that he could touch him, console him somehow. He didn't notice the tear that slipped down his own cheek. Saying good bye to Hercules was the hardest thing he ever had to do in his life...and, despite all the practice drills, all the times they'd thought his life was over before, he still hadn't learned how.

"Herc, I..." he wanted to object, but Hercules just shook his head, unable to look at Iolaus lest his strength fail him and he surrender to his desire to accept Iolaus' offer.

Studying him, knowing what it was costing Hercules, Iolaus again looked down at his body. Herc was right...he was mortal. They'd always known this would come someday. Looked like 'someday' was here. He wanted to scream out in rage, in denial, wanted to argue with the Fates, demand another chance. But, he knew that seeing him rage against the Fates would destroy Hercules...and, in the end it wouldn't do any good. What did the Fates care about the life of a single mortal in the great span of time?

Sighing, he said finally, his voice husky. "I hate to do this...you know that. I'd give anything to stay with you but...I guess you're right. I have to go."

Iolaus looked up and saw Tallerra hovering near by. He saw an expression that looked like awe on her face, but didn't really care. She was here to end the trance. He looked away, pressing his eyes closed, wishing there could be some miracle, some magic that could save them this.

But, their time had run out. "Herc," he said softly, a lost look in his eyes, and a terrible fear that this might be the last time he'd look upon his best friend, "I have to believe that we'll see each other again, or I can't do this."

Hercules turned back to face Iolaus then, knowing this parting was as hard for his buddy as it was for him. He nodded, trying to find his voice, finally saying, "I have to believe that, too. Eternity is a long time...we'll find a way."

"Promise?" Iolaus asked, his voice cracking.

"Oh yeah, buddy...I promise," Hercules vowed. He'd be spending the rest of his life trying to find that way.

Iolaus blinked back the tears in his eyes, and sniffed, not realizing he'd been crying. "Once I go back in there, I won't be able to talk again...but, there'll be a moment, I know, before I'm really gone. Just...just..."

"I'll be right here, with you, as long as you're here." Herc hastened to assure him. "I won't let go of you until ...." His voice cracked, unable to get past the lump in his throat.

Iolaus gazed at him for a moment longer, the grief in his own soul written in his eyes. They looked at one another silently for a long moment, the love they felt that went beyond words, that never needed to be said so long as they could see into one another's souls, blazing in their eyes. Iolaus lifted a hand, as if he wanted to touch Herc, but realized he couldn't. He blinked his eyes against his tears, lowering his head. He shook it once, a last protest against the inevitable, then quickly turned and laid down over his body, slipping back into it.

His lips trembling, shaking with his sorrow, tears brimming in his eyes, Hercules gathered his friend tightly in his arms, holding him close. "I'll find you," he whispered, hoping some part of Iolaus could still hear him. "I promise." Herc buried his face in Iolaus' hair not even noticing that it was still wet from the pool, then his lips brushing the damp curls aside, he tenderly kissed his friend's forehead.

Tallerra, and the rest of the fairies who had silently drifted back behind her, watched in awed amazement. The Fairy Queen couldn't believe she'd seen Iolaus' spirit weep. Spirits didn't cry...ever. And now, as Herc's lips brushed his friend's forehead, they all saw a glow the demigod couldn't yet see begin to emanate from the blond warrior, flowing from his heart until it enveloped his body, shimmering ever more brightly. She felt tears fill her eyes in gratitude that the mystery of the fairies' pool had opened the way for this magic...their magic. In that moment, she raised her clasped hands high, then tore them apart, holding her arms wide...removing the trance.

Gradually, Hercules became aware of the light that enwrapped Iolaus, bringing warmth back to his body and colour back to his face. Unable to believe what he was seeing, Hercules watched, not daring to breathe, desperate hope lighting his eyes.

Iolaus took a breath, and stirred a little before finally opening his eyes, confused awareness mingled with a wary hope in the look he gave Hercules.

Hercules lifted his eyes in stunned amazement to Tallerra, gratitude for the miracle glowing in his face, finally finding his voice. "What happened?"

She smiled at him then, brilliantly, incandescent with joy in witnessing a miracle the fairies would sing about for all time. "Magic," she said simply. "...the magic of true love."

Finis


End file.
